


Bad End: SDR2

by hopemaeda, PlummyPlums



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Bad Ending, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Burning, Cancer, Crushed to death, Depression, Fire, Food Poisoning, Frontotemporal Dementia, Future Foundation, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Illnesses, Malnutrition, Mastermind AU, Murder, Other, Overdose, Poisoning, Sleep Deprivation, Sorta kinda, Stabbing, Suicide, Terminal Illnesses, blood and death, heart condition, its more obvious than that i guess, its not rly a secret who the mastermind is but, komahina if u squint, multiple gunshot wounds, post dr3 au in which they dont live happily ever after amd are instead targeted by future foundation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopemaeda/pseuds/hopemaeda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlummyPlums/pseuds/PlummyPlums
Summary: If they didn't go sailing off on a boat into the sunset, what would've happened to the 77th class after the events of SDR2?Probably nothing good, if you let your imagination run a little bit wild.





	Bad End: SDR2

**Introduction**

     How did Hajime end up here, again?  In this situation? ...Right.  He remembered why.

     It all stemmed back to their time in despair, he knew.  He knew what they did and that it was terribly wrong.  All of it was.  Maybe they truly deserved what they had gotten.   _He_ definitely deserved this punishment, if anyone.  He could tell just by looking into those green-brown eyes that this was what he ultimately deserved; to die like this -- lonely and sad and aching to just be with those he had lost again.  He wanted it all to be over already.

     He wanted it all to be _over_ _already._

     The brunette stood on the beach, gazing out at the sky that day.  He was the only one left.  What would he do?  Throwing himself into the ocean sounded like a good idea.

     However, right before Hajime was about to act on that thought, he saw something in the distance.  A boat.  A Future Foundation boat?  They were sending a shipment?  Coming to get them?  It didn't make sense to Hajime.

 When the boat docked on Jabberwock Island, he felt only bitterness; like they'd come to save the 77th Class much too late.  However, when a familiar face stepped off of it, he felt like he could just cry.  

     When that familiar face held a gun to his head, he froze.

     ...What happened to them?  Was this really how it all had to end?

     There he was, face to face with a man he once trusted.  A gun between his eyes, a telltale smile playing on the other's lips.

     "I set it all up," he said first.  "It was all my doing, yes.  I saved you for last for a reason," he told him.  "You know, I might as well tell you what you've been wondering about for the longest time."  He shrugged his shoulders, a smug smirk on his face.  "It's true you infected the Neo World Program with Enoshima Junko, yes, but I helped you do it.  You just don't remember.  'You really think I would willingly help rotten oranges like you recover from despair?  Do you really think you're healed, even now?"

     Hajime swallowed thickly.  "Why?"  He asked meekly.  "Why did you do it...?"

     "I have to say," the man in front of him went on, ignoring the other's words.  "You all were pretty stupid to keep coming back to all those 'meetings'."  He wore a soft, kind smile.  Really, how did it end up like this? 

     He sighed softly, momentarily pulling the gun pointed between Hajime's eyes away to swing it around.  "Sooo stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid...anywho, it doesn't stop there; I thought we'd have to kill all of you - except maybe Komaeda-kun - honestly..it surprised me how many picked themselves off for me!  'Saved a lot of effort."  He rested the gun in his other hand and sent a side glare in Hajime's direction before thrusting it back towards him like a taunt.  Still, he wore that smile.

     Hajime could run right now.  With Kamukura's talent at his disposal, he could easily escape unharmed.  It wasn't like he was surrounded or anything.  He was there, on the wide open beach of Jabberwock Island, with a man he'd trusted his life with time and time again pointing a gun at him.  It wouldn't be hard to leave...No, he couldn't leave.  What place was there for him in this world, now? 

     ...It couldn't end _just_ yet.  They both knew that.  So Hajime closed his eyes - and the other let him - temporarily ignoring the gun between his eyes, and took himself back to the events of the past 2 years -- to those he _tried_ to save, but couldn't.

 

**1 / Rising Action: Short Enough To Shoot**

He remembered the day it started.

     Makoto had suggested they start meeting regularly with Future Foundation, in order to keep up with the status of the slowly-rebuilding world and even help in the healing process.  Hajime quickly agreed (as did the rest of his friends), feeling it was the least he could do to make up for his actions.  He felt it was his  _duty_ to help rebuild the world he'd destroyed.

      They were just on their way to one of the conferences with Future Foundation that day.  What had they been doing wrong?  Hajime supposed it wasn't about what they were doing in that moment, but what they had done _before_.

     He was tall, wore a black suit and had gray hair.  The hateful glint in the man's blue eyes was almost enough to distract him from the weapon in his hand.  Hiyoko stood almost perfectly still, eyes widening a moment before a sudden, sharp sound filled the air.  Gunshot.  For a moment, everything was dreadfully quiet as the girl's body crumpled to the ground.  That moment did not last.  

     Mahiru let out an anguished wail, falling to her knees by the shorter girl's side.  With speed he didn't even know he had, Hajime came face to face with the man and wrapped his hands around his throat, almost crushing his windpipe before he felt a pair of strong arms on him.  Hajime almost didn't hear his own voice as he screamed at the killer; almost didn't realize the horrid sound tearing itself from  _his_ _own_ throat.

     "Hajime, please!  Let him go!"  Nekomaru yelled, "He's not worth it!  We should be paying attention to Hiyoko!"

     After struggling for a few more moments, the adrenaline rush wore off and Hajime let himself fall limp in Nekomaru's arms.  The man immediately made a run for it, gasping for air.  Hajime's knees felt weak, but he chose to run towards Hiyoko rather than the man he had previously wanted dead.  Mahiru had one of Hiyoko's small hands clasped in her own, held up against her chest.  Blood trailed down her paling forehead, still pouring from the small, but deadly, wound of a bullet now engraved in her skin; her skull, even.  Mahiru's heart-wrenching cries had devolved into loud, broken sobs which wracked through her whole body.  Hajime kneeled beside her, gazing sadly upon their fallen friend.  She looked so young like that, her blonde hair held in its large ponytail and pink kimono still mostly clean.  Tears stung in Hajime's eyes as he, too, lost his composure.  She still had so long to live, so much to do with her life, and it was all torn away by that man.  No, he wasn't a man--he was a  _monster_.  A monster who stole the life of a sweet young woman.  And for what?  Revenge?

     Hajime should've killed him when he had the chance.

 

**2: Chihiro Fujisaki-Style Execution**

     The second death happened not long after Hiyoko's passing.

     They were due for a shipment from Future Foundation that day.  The boat would be there momentarily, carrying food and other things that had been requested by the group -- like a new camera for Mahiru (she broke it in a midst of grief one day).  Hajime was on his way to the dock, ready to help unload the supplies they were brought.  After all, the Future Foundation members had been kind enough to send them food and other essentials; he might as well help them.

     As he neared the docks, he noticed something concerning.  Or rather, someone.  Kazuichi was running towards him at full speed, obviously crying.  Upon seeing the other, Hajime instantly knew something was wrong and quickly closed the distance between them, demanding to know what was wrong.  Kazuichi was stuttering so much that it was hard to understand him, but Hajime managed to decipher "Gundham" and "accident".  That was a bad sign.  A  _really_ bad sign.  They ran back to the dock, Hajime's anxiety levels rising by the moment.  The boat was there, obviously, and as Hajime got closer and closer, he noticed that nothing had been taken off of it yet; it was still packed with crates and boxes.  What was even _more_ off, that made Hajime's heart sink, was the small line of blood visible on the deck as he stepped onto it.  It trailed off around a large crate that obstructed Hajime's view.  The man nearly sprinted to get around the thing only to be met with the sight of Gundham Tanaka's corpse sprawled out on the surface.

     A look of shock was plastered on the breeder's face, which was somehow even paler than usual.  Hajime's main focus, though, was on the large, bloody indentation on the back of Gundham's head.  The bright bubblegum colored liquid had leaked past the edges of the ghastly wound down his face and neck and onto the surface of the deck; it pooled around his skull.  Upon seeing the body, Kazuichi burst into tears all over again in a mix of shock, sadness and fear.  Hajime was simply stunned.  What on Earth had happened?  

     A Future Foundation member approached them at just that moment.  The brunette's features hardened in anger.

     "What  _happened_?!" He boomed, voice louder than he intended it to be.  

     "We have the situation under control," the man calmly replied.  "A rogue member--"

     "A _rogue_ member?!  'The fuck is that supposed to mean?!  Are you saying one of you did this to him?  You killed Gundham?!"

     Where was the "rogue member"?  Who was really responsible?  Who really did it?  Could they trust anyone?  Hajime could've punched the man in front of him right then and there.  Instead, he clenched his fists together so hard that his nails left crescent-moon shaped indents in his palm.

 

**3: Eternal Bedtime**

     After Hiyoko and Gundham's deaths, Hajime stopped feeling rage.  There was only sadness afterwards.

     Mahiru fell into a depression after Hiyoko died.  It only grew worse after Gundham's passing.  She slept less, she ate less, she took care of herself _less_.

     Hajime kind of became her caretaker.  Along with Mikan, he took the best care of her that he could; urging her to eat, sleep, shower -- simple things.  Mikan felt they had the situation under control.  Hajime knew by the ever-darkening circles under the photographer's eyes that that was not necessarily true.  He saw her every day--it was only natural that he noticed.  Maybe Mikan just wanted to deny it.

     Days, weeks, even, passed with the same routine:

     "How do you feel?"

     "Fine."

     "'Sleeping any better?"

     "Not really."

     "Eating any better?"

     "No."

     Hajime should've made more of an effort.  He knew that.  He could've done more.  Why didn't he do more?

     On that day, he'd been bringing her food to her cottage.  He'd been particularly worried about her, considering the night before when he'd come to check on her at about 5:10 in the morning and she had been wide awake, staring at the wall.  Concerning, to say the least.

     "Have you slept at all?"

     "No."

     "At _all_?"

     "No."

     He felt that same apprehension standing there that he had felt the night before.  How long had she just... _not been sleeping?_  Not been  _eating_?  They'd been forcing as much as they could into her, but still...

     Hajime knocked once on the door.  No response.  He knocked again -- louder more urgent; his anxiety was only growing.  Still, no response.  Hajime put his hand on the doorknob and turned.  It was unlocked.  He blinked in slight surprise, then pushed it open and stepped into the cottage.

     The lights were all off aside from the tiny desk lamp on Mahiru's nightstand, which was glowing yellow.  She was curled up in her blankets and laid on her side, knees pulled up to her chest.   _Oh, good_ , Hajime thought.   _She's finally getting some rest._ He walked around to the side of the bed, placing the tray of food in his arms on the nightstand before kneeling down slightly to wake her -- a gentle shake of the shoulder.  

     No response.  Hajime could feel his anxiety rising again.  She was just really tired, right?  Exhausted, even.  He debated whether or not to actually wake her.  Just to make himself feel better, he tried again.  

     "Mahiru?"  He said cautiously, hand still on her shoulder.  "Wake up.  Teruteru made food.  Everyone else really loved it, of course; I'm sure you will, too."

     Nothing.  Now he was very worried.  

     He threw the sheets as far off of her as he could and pushed her shoulder back so that she was laying flat.  Her head lolled with the motion and Hajime still received no response.  The brunette's heart was thudding obnoxiously in his chest, the only noise in the silent room.  When he placed a hand upon her chest and felt nothing, he frantically moved his palm from place to place, desperately searching for a heartbeat.  He snatched her limp arm up, checked for a pulse; nothing.  He placed two fingers to her throat; nothing.  The sound Hajime made could only be considered a whimper.  He sank down onto the small amount of space on the side of the bed, dazed and confused.  The food long forgotten, he turned his head to look directly at her.  She looked peaceful, her eyes already shut and mouth slightly agape.  Hajime felt his heart positively  _ache_.

     After a few moments of simply sitting beside his friend, the man reached out and slowly, gently swept a lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.   _Mahiru_ _,_ he thought sadly, tears beginning to spill over his cheeks in a steady stream.   _I'm so sorry._

 

**4: Feast Fit For a Queen**

     Hajime confided in Makoto after Mahiru had gone.  

     The man had offered only comforting words, like: "Do you need anything?" and "What can I do to help you?" and "I'm here for you."  Hajime began to feel... _somewhat_ better after a few conversations.  Nowhere's near "healed", but better.  

     "You and the others should all come here one day," Makoto said at one point.  "Not on work or anything.  Just to hang out, and be with each other, and to grieve. We'll have a dinner party with the rest of my branch!  Just for all of you, for being so strong.  You've had to endure so much...And I'm sure Kyouko and Byakuya would love the idea.  None of us have had a break in so long..."

     Hajime happily accepted the offer.  The rest of his peers were a bit less enthusiastic, but glad nonetheless.  So, a week from that proposal, there they all were at said feast -- all 13 of them.  It was enjoyable in the beginning.  They hadn't been at peace in what felt like forever, but in that moment -- talking and laughing with everyone as if nothing had ever gone wrong in their lives -- Hajime felt alright.  However, the moment of harmony didn't last long.  

     Hajime saw the beginning of it: Sonia lurching forward in her seat.  Then, somehow, over the boisterous chatter of all those in the room, her coughing could be heard.  It started off softly, but very quickly became a heavy wheeze.  The noise died down only for a moment as chairs screeched collectively around the room, people standing and running to Sonia's aid.   

      _She's choking,_ Hajime thought frantically as the former princess clamped both her hands around her throat (as if that would help her).

     Souda reached her side first, but Akane was close behind.  He went to pat her on the back, but the former gymnast grabbed Sonia out of her seat before he could do so and attempted to give her the Heimlich Maneuver.  Sonia's face was turning purple at that point, much to Hajime's horror; nothing was coming up and it seemed like Akane's attempt to help her only made it  _worse._  Hajime felt sick.

     Sonia went limp in the other girl's arms.  If only for a moment, the room went deathly silent.  It was eerie.  No one knew how to react.

      _She choked to death?_  He couldn't feel anything at this point.  Time felt frozen.   _Poison?_  That other person in him offered.

     Fuyuhiko broke the silence.

 

**5: Salted**

     "Dammit!"  He sounded exasperated.  Tears began to well up in his eyes; Hajime could see it from across the table.  The man stomped his foot on the ground, sobbing slightly before heading straight for the door.  He saw it: the way Fuyuhiko's shoulder's trembled before he, too, broke out into a violent fit of coughing -- a struggle for breath.  Hajime's eyes widened as Peko ran to him, as he dropped to his knees, as he desperately reached for oxygen one last time before keeling over into Peko's arms.

      _This can't be happening._ Hajime wanted to simply cry, but he couldn't; no tears were filling his eyes.   _This seriously can't be happening._

     He watched as Peko clung to Fuyuhiko's corpse and sobbed, right there, for him.  They all watched.  That's all they could do.  All _he_ could do.

     Eventually, he was torn away from her, and Peko sobbed even harder.  She reached for him, begging to have him back, though her pleas fell on deaf ears and cold hearts.  Hajime approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder, bringing slight comfort to her shattered heart.  She looked up at him, tears pouring down her face.   She wasn't the only one who seemed devastated.  Many of the others were crying as well, though whether it was from Sonia or Fuyuhiko's death, he didn't know.

     Looking into Peko's red-eyed and teary face, Hajime felt his heart shatter into bits and pieces, since it had already been broken.

 

**6: Jigai**

      Peko was obviously crushed by Fuyuhiko's death.  Hajime thought that she felt as though she only lived to protect him, and she had failed completely in letting him die.

     She had never felt that sort of pain before, even when she was ripped from Fuyuhiko back in the simulation, Hajime knew.  She had failed him.  She had loved him and she had let him die in her own arms.  What kind of bodyguard was she?  What kind of  _friend_ was she?  She cried even harder at that thought.

     Once back on the island, safe within her own cottage, she sat in complete silence.  She could barely think without bursting into tears all over again.  Her face was still streaked with dried tears, and she could almost feel the weight of his body still in her arms.  It was awful, and she was terribly overwhelmed.  She had to make a decision.

 

     No one had seen or heard from Peko since they arrived back on the island that night.  They knew she had gone to her cottage, but that was the long and short of it.  Hajime knew he should have gone to check on her.  He wasn't observant enough.  Something could easily have happened to her, especially in her fragile state.  Hajime himself was the first to check on her, not wanting to wait until morning in fear of her being hurt or hurting _herself_.  

     When he entered her cottage, the man found her kneeling on the floor, facing away from the door and towards the back wall of the room.  Was she meditating, or something?  She was slumped slightly, her head forward.  Something was off.

     "Peko?" Hajime called, albeit reluctantly, "Are you alright?"  After getting no response, the brunette knew he was right to be concerned.  He quickly walked up beside her, kneeling next to the former swordswoman and placing a hand on her shoulder.  His fingertips came away warm, coated in bright pink fluid.  He instantly moved to face her head on and was slapped in the face with the damage.  He was too late.  

     There was a deep gash along the side of Peko's throat, from which blood had spilled down her front and stained her clothing.  He noticed that her legs were tied together at the knees with a rope.  The knot was strong yet messy, as though whoever had tied it had been trembling and uncoordinated in their actions.  It was a grisly sight to behold.  Hajime covered his mouth with his clean hand, eyes darting back and forth from the blood to Peko and then away from the entire sight.  He felt like he was about to be sick.  Stumbling to his feet, he placed a hand on the doorframe and breathed erratically, trying to regulate his heartbeat.  What the hell was happening to all of them?

 

**7: This Soda is Flat!**

     The next meeting with Future Foundation was not much better than the last.  

     As the slowly diminishing group poured into the conference room for the first time in over a month, Kazuichi, who was walking alongside Hajime, was abruptly approached by a Future Foundation member.  

     "Souda-kun," the man greeted, and dipped his head slightly.  "I have a request for you.  We'd like you to take a look downstairs in the boiler room.  There seems to be a problem with some of the machinery down there; some around here have been smelling gas for the past few days, but none of us are capable enough to investigate it.  We've been waiting for you to arrive in order to ask."

     Souda stared at him for a moment in awkward silence.

     "I'll be willing to accompany you," the man offered.

     Hajime and Kazuichi exchanged skeptical glances, but the pink-haired nodded nonetheless.  "Sure," he said with a slight sigh.  "But no funny business this time, yeah?"  He added, half-jokingly.

     "Of course not, Souda-kun," said the man, straight-faced and in a dead serious tone.  He began to head out of the conference room, glancing over his shoulder at the former mechanic, expecting Kazuichi to follow.

     "'Careful,"  Hajime mumbled to his friend.

     Kazuichi shrugged towards Hajime, looking slightly worried, before he went after the man, leaving Hajime with the rest of the group.  He watched him leave before walking over to the large table in the center of the room and pulling out a chair for himself to sit down in.  

     Makoto (who was directly across from Hajime but practically on the other side of the room due to the table's length) opened his mouth and began to speak.  Hajime didn't really hear any of it; he was too preoccupied with the fact that Souda was off somewhere in the enormous building with an employee he barely knew, apparently fixing something in a boiler room.  It just didn't sit well with him.

     When they heard the first crash (about halfway through the meeting, Hajime guessed), Hajime abruptly pushed his seat away from the table and stood up straight, palms braced on the surface of the table as if he was getting ready to announce something important.  All the heads in the room turned to look at him as if they hadn't heard it.

     "Did you hear that?"  He asked quickly.  "That crashing noise?"

     "No," Makoto replied from across the table, tilting his head to one side in confusion.  "A crashing noise?  Like--"

     Another one, louder than the last, hit Hajime's ears.  Before he had time to point it out, there was another, and then 3 more; one after the other, connected.  The brunette's heart began to thud violently against his chest, threatening to burst free.

     At that point, others in the room were on their feet as well.  Then a few started running.  Hajime recognized Akane and the Imposter among them and went after the familiar faces.  The run there was a blur; he simply followed the others, his ears ringing.

     When they arrived in the basement, Hajime saw the same man as before standing in front of the open door.  The man was panting, leaning against the wall with a hand pressed to his chest.  He was charred on the legs, a few ash marks on his face but not much more.  He wheezed out a message as they passed by him. "Only barely made it out...I'm sorry, but he-he was-"

     Hajime's eyes widened at what he saw when he stood in front of the entrance to the boiler room.  Some large machine took up the majority of it, though it seemed to be out of place as it laid in the center of the floor on its side.  He grimaced at the smell it emitted.  The thing was smoking excessively and wailing in a machine-like way; screaming, even.  For a moment, it seemed as though everything was alright otherwise.  That very quickly changed when Ibuki screamed, pointing at a pool of pink liquid slowly creeping out from under it.  It was no mystery what that was.  Akane and Nekomaru attempted to move the large device, but it was too heavy for even their combined strength.  Everyone was silent.  Hajime felt a hand on his forearm and glanced over to see it was Makoto.  The man was staring gloomily into the room at the machine. Hajime felt warm tears begin to roll down his cheeks.  He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but he was determined to find out -- for the sake of his Soul Friend.

     Why did such freak accidents seem to keep happening to them?

     

 

**8: Human Disqualification (Reboot)**

    Was it possible to bully someone to death?  Hajime found out the answer was yes.

     "Who even  _are_ you?  Can we trust someone who doesn't even have their own  _name_?  Why do we even keep you around?"

      Ultimate Imposter heard these comments on a daily basis, as did Hajime.  It wasn't new, it just became more and more tiring over time, hearing it every day.  It nearly made them sick, realizing that so many people thought so little of them.  It was rather obvious.  They visibly flinched whenever someone spoke to them that way.  It just wasn't right; they didn't deserve that.  They were very kind -- Hajime knew that better than most.  Future Foundation didn't help, as they simply waved it off as an "occupational hazard" or even added to the torment.  Hajime imagined it was a lot on them to be so blatantly disrespected.

      That day, just as they were leaving the Future Foundation headquarters after a meeting, Hajime noticed the lack of the Imposter amongst them.  When he pointed this out, some suggested that maybe they had gone ahead of them somehow and were already at the boat.  Others said that they were running behind and would catch up with the rest eventually.  Neither was a particularly plausible excuse, but they were hopeful thoughts.  They didn't have enough of those at the time.  Hajime chose to believe them, though he still felt a glimmer of unease in the pit of his stomach.

     Upon arriving at the boat, they were somewhat surprised to find that the Imposter was not already there.  In fact, they weren't anywhere to be found, even after waiting almost 20 minutes and searching for 2 hours.  Many of the Ultimates were worried, some anxious, but they all had to return to Jabberwock Island within the hour.  There was the argument that they  _weren't_ in fact all there, as the Imposter wasn't with them, but they were sent off anyways.  None of them slept easy that night.

 

      The next week, a video message came through on the island; it was from Future Foundation.  They all gathered to talk to Makoto and the rest of the chairmen, dark suspicions confirmed when they stated that Imposter hadn't been seen since _that_ day.  They pronounced them dead.  Sure, there was a chance that they could be found at some point, but they'd been completely off the grid for a week. It was improbable.

 

**9: Overcooked**

It wasn't too long before another meeting came around.  The remaining students all attended (with slight reluctance), of course, but almost the moment they arrived Teruteru was called away by an employee.  Something about needing to make a meal for after the meeting, Hajime wasn't entirely listening.  In retrospect, he should've been.  He was never being attentive enough.  That's why what had happened so far had happened, after all.

     The conference soon began, and Makoto droned on as usual about recent findings, status of the outside world, status of the organization, and so on.  Hajime was oddly distracted, unable to completely focus on what anyone was saying.  He just felt that something was...off.  Wrong.  He was  _sure_ that something was amiss.  The air was heavy, most likely in response to what happened at the last meeting.  This place was bad for them, Hajime realized that.  He was stupid to not have thought so before.

     He was proven correct when an alarm went off, effectively cutting Makoto off.   _A fire alarm,_ Hajime thought frantically, his chair screeching in the effort to get up.  Everyone else quickly stood as well, leaving the room with various levels of urgency and quickly pulling ahead of Hajime, who walked briskly alongside Nagito and Mikan.  Said reserve course student eventually caught up with the group, though he noticed something that was rather disconcerting.

     "Where's Teruteru?"

     Everyone's eyes widened, flitting between each other as though looking for an answer.  Hajime's heart dropped.  He nearly felt sick.  They couldn't let the cook die by fire, not again; it'd be like the sick punchline to a joke that no one laughed at.  A few other Future Foundation members were scattered around them.  Upon Hajime questioning, it seemed none of them knew where the short man had gone during the meeting in the first place, much less where he currently was, by the looks on their faces.  It was stressful, to say the least.  No matter their convictions with the man, they still didn't want to see another friend lost.  Not like that.  Not at _all_ , _period_.  

     The fire department had long since arrived, and a young fireman walked up to Hajime with a grim look twisted into his features.  "Sir," he said, almost hesitantly, "you may want to come and see this."

     That sounded just wonderful, didn't it?

 

     "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, Mr. Hinata, but I'm afraid that your friend is dead."

 

**10: Twilight Syndrome Suicide Case: Girl C Edition**

     None of them expected Ibuki - fun loving, optimistic, cheery Ibuki - to do what she did next.  It seemed like she just couldn't handle seeing her classmates die all over again, so she decided to just...escape it.  They weren't sure if it was Teruteru's death that pushed her over the edge, or what.  It was all just too much for her.  In the end, it didn't really matter why.  All that really mattered was that it happened. 

     It was a scary moment.  Hajime was laying in bed that night, tossing and turning restlessly; he'd been having more nightmares lately, and all the deaths didn't help.  

     That was the night that they found out just how loud Ibuki Mioda could scream.  It proved to be _very_ loud.  When the bloodcurdling screech reached Hajime's ears, he shot up in bed, ramrod straight, before struggling out of the blankets and tripping in the process of trying to leave his cottage.  When he finally managed to get out - barefoot and in nothing but a shirt and boxers - he skidded to a halt on the deck outside is cottage as he realized he had no idea where the scream had come from, or who had made it.  His head snapping from side to side, he noticed Akane, Nekomaru and Nagito were outside of their cottages, as well.  

     "What the hell was that?!"  Hajime cried, sounding exasperated even to his own ears.  

      Akane, looking the most frazzled, sprinted off without responding.  Nekomaru, Hajime and Nagito exchanged glances before following after her.  They all knew Akane had gut feelings and had learned to trust those.  

     They followed her all the way to the library, which was surprising, because it meant Ibuki screamed loud enough to reach their ears in their cottages from the _library._  Akane wasted no time hurrying inside; neither did Nekomaru.  Both Hajime and Nagito stopped before entering to catch their breath.  Nagito continued on first, while Hajime lagged behind more from anxiousness than anything.

     The brunette peered over Nagito's shoulder when they entered, afraid of what he was about to see.  Akane and Nekomaru were kneeling on the ground in the center of the library; Hajime couldn't see past them.  Nagito rushed over to get a look, then glanced back at Hajime with a grave expression and shook his head.

     Hajime felt his heart sink down into his stomach.

     Ibuki Mioda had committed suicide, and they all let it happen.   _He_ let it happen.

 

**11: Cowardice**

Ryouta made it much longer than they expected him to, honestly.

     After the Imposter disappeared, he became inconsolable.  Hajime began to worry about him once they knew Imposter wouldn't be coming back; he could see the look of utter sorrow on Ryouta's face during the video call with Makoto.

     They saw little of him from then on; he was constantly holed up in his cottage.  Hajime visited him often, but Ryouta never let him inside.  Most of the time, Hajime simply sit outside his door and talked to him.  Ryouta rarely responded let alone had conversations with him. 

     Even once Teruteru and Ibuki died, Ryouta pushed on and Hajime kept visiting him.  He always kept him up to date on the situation; who was he to withhold the information from him?

     Hajime never really made a big effort to go further than talking.  He never tried to get inside the cottage.  He knew, deep down, that what was going to happen was impossible to prevent; it was only a matter of time.  He just didn't have the energy to try.  Why try, when the outcome was inevitable, anyway?

     That day, Hajime made his way to Ryouta's cottage and plopped down in front of the door, his back facing it.  He crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap.

     "Ryouta?"  He said.

     "Wh-what?"  Came the quiet response.

     "How are you feeling today?"

     "..."

     "Have you eaten anything today?"  Hajime sounded like a broken record even to his own ears.  And also like a fussy parent...Definitely like a fussy parent.  He remembered Mahiru in that moment, for some reason.

     "..."

     "Well, I hope you're feeling a little bit better today as opposed to yesterday," he added.  He said that almost every day.

     Hajime didn't say anything else after that.  He realized just how tired he was of talking - of doing  _anything -_ and just decided to stop.  He simply stared down at the hands in his lap and studied his own fingers.

     Nearly 10 minutes passed of complete silence when Hajime could've sworn he heard crying on the other side of the door.  He straightened his shoulders, gaze shifting slightly.  

     Not even 5 more minutes went by when the telltale, unmistakable sound of a gunshot pierced his ears.  Hajime clenched his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears initially at the sound, but opened his eyes again and relaxed quickly.  He didn't turn to look at the door; he simply glanced up to the clear blue sky (not a cloud was in sight that day), shut his eyes, and let his head fall back against the door as a deep sigh escaped him.

     After a few moments, Hajime opened his eyes, and the world was blurry.  When did he start crying?

 

**12: Deadly Sin: Pride**

     They'd all had enough of what was happening.   They were all deeply upset, irrevocably scarred (as if they weren't before), but Akane seemed to be the most fed up.  She was plain angry, surpassing sorrow entirely.

     "Why should they get away with this?!"  She snapped to Hajime one day.  "'S not right!  Not right at all!  It's sick!  We gotta do somethin' about it!"

     "Akane," Hajime told her calmly.  "I don't think we need to confront Future Foundation...they have it under control.  Rogue members exist -- it just happens.  The rest have just been...been accidents."

     "But we should let 'em kill our friends every time we gotta go to a meeting?!  Nuh-uh!  And _accidents_?  You're kidding, right?!  This is obviously bein' done intentionally!  I'll take 'em down myself!"

     "Akane, you can't _take them down_ \--"

     "I can and I will!"  There was just no wavering with her.  Hajime put it out of his mind, sure she would calm down, rethink or just forget the idea in general.  However, they weren't so lucky.

     Even Nekomaru didn't seem to know how to react at the next gathering at Future Foundation headquarters when Akane threw herself at one of the members closest to her in the room.  She punched him square in the jaw.  The woman went back for more and landed another couple blows, the room in a small panic but no one actually doing anything about it.  The man toppled to the floor and Akane held her fists up to her chest.

     "That's whatcha get!"  She roared.  "I'm not even done yet!  I'll beat all of ya up!  All of ya, for whatcha did to our friends!!!"  Hajime saw a rage in her eyes like he'd never seen before, that day.

     She didn't get the chance to beat anyone _else_ up, because a swarm of members came in the moment she finished talking.  They were all armed with guns.  Everyone dropped to the floor, shielding themselves, as they shot at her.  She was able to escape the first few, but once one got her, three more got her; then five; then seven. It was _brutal_.  Hajime covered his eyes, but he could hear Nekomaru yelling something and multiple people screaming.

     When the sound of bullets piercing the air subsided, Hajime parted his fingers and looked through them before removing his hands from his face completely.  He stood up cautiously.  The room was totally silent as he spotted Akane, limp in Nekomaru's arms. She was positively mutilated, too many holes for Hajime to count, covered in blood...

      They didn't go to another Future Foundation conference after that. 

 

**13: Doki Doki Panic v.2**

     As it turned out, they didn't _need_ to go to another meeting to be picked off.  Everything had finally seemed to be calming down; no one had died in a while now, and they had all begun to adjust.  Well, as well as they could whilst knowing that most of their friends had died; most right in front of them.  Nekomaru had been very depressed at first, and for good reason, but he seemed to have begun the process of moving on.  His ever-present determination was truly inspiring.  It was fine.  They were fine.  Why couldn't it just stay that way?

     It started off small.  Hajime didn't take much notice to it at the time, but Nekomaru slowly began get more tired quickly and winded more easily.  Sometimes he would get dizzy for seemingly no reason.  Hajime knew that "no reason" wasn't quite right, but he also knew that he couldn't stop whatever it was.  There was nothing that could be done for his friend, not there.  

     So Nekomaru tried to hide it.  He didn't want to spend his days bedridden as he had for so long as a child, Hajime knew.  Knowing Mikan, she would lock the man in a hospital room and never let him leave.  Nekomaru didn't want that, not one bit, so he chose to spend as much time as he could with his friends instead.  He just didn't want to see his friends be hurt by issues that were his and his alone.  Hajime guessed that, to him, it just didn't seem fair to them.

     It very quickly got worse.  Nekomaru had passed out more than a few times in the presence of the others, and Mikan was having none of it.  He was quickly put exactly where he had been trying to avoid.  Regardless, the man still tried to be positive, interacting with them as normally as possible and always telling them he felt fine when they knew he didn't.  Though, he wasn't entirely alone; Nagito visited often, being in the room right beside him as a result of his illnesses, as well, returning.  So it wasn't all bad.  He wasn't  _alone._

     It all built up to the day his condition got the best of him.

     Hajime, Nagito, and Mikan had all been there, just knowing that their boisterous friend was getting worse by the day, and had all been there to bear witness as Nekomaru's heart finally couldn't take it any longer.  He died right in front of them, and none of them could do a thing to stop it.  Mikan burst into tears, lamenting both the loss of their friend and her perceived failure as a nurse.  Komaeda was saddened, of course, but he didn't cry.  Hajime seemed oddly calm, as though he was ready for this moment.  He wasn't.

     It never gets any easier to watch all of your closest friends die.  You can just make it look like it is.

 

**14: Forget Me Not**

      Hajime knew from the beginning that Nagito was sick.  When he first woke from the simulation, that's what he first noticed.  His diseases riled up again; they were back with a vengeance.  They weren't so bad for a while -- Nagito could function pretty well all through the other deaths, aside from Akane's.  Shortly after hers, he fell ill -- ill enough to put him in the hospital.  Hajime figured that all that grief was what pushed the illnesses to get worse and worse over time, and there they were, in the alcohol prep and saline-smelling building.  

     They had stopped getting shipments from Future Foundation, and therefore had barely anything to care for him with.  They had to work with whatever medicine they already had.  They were all on their own.

     It seemed Nagito was deteriorating more and more with each passing day.  It didn't used to be like that.  But what can you do with little to no proper treatment for someone with dementia and lymphoma on an otherwise deserted island?

     Hajime spent a lot of time with him.  He'd bring him books to read, food to eat, games to play.  Sometimes he'd just talk to him; sometimes he'd just lay with him.  Mikan cared for him mostly, yes, but Hajime had to do _something._  On days when Nagito didn't think that Hajime was Izuru Kamukura, he'd take him outside and go for walks with him.  Once they even made it to the beach.  Getting back was not as easy.  Mikan actually had to come and help.

     After Nekomaru died, Nagito grew rapidly worse; worse than he'd been before.

     "Who are you, again?"  He'd ask Mikan -- sometimes twice a day, she explained.  She'd often enter the room and find him crying, or just looking scared and confused.  Once, she told Hajime, the nurse had a small heart attack when she walked in on him attempting to remove the IVs from his arms, claiming he had no reason to be there.

     It wasn't just dementia tearing away at his brain -- the lymphoma was getting worse, too.  He grew weaker and weaker, more tired, lethargic; sicker in general.  Regardless, Hajime visited him, always with a smile on his face.

     There were days he'd send him away, seeing him as Izuru Kamukura, and Hajime left without protest.  He wanted to confuse him as little as possible, so telling him otherwise would be futile and probably make him worse.  He'd only done it once, the first time he'd asked him who Mikan was.

     "Who's that girl?"  He whispered to the other man as she left the room.  "The nurse?"

     "Mikan."  Hajime had blinked at him, concerned.  "You know her...she's been taking care of you all this time, she's your friend--"

     "I've never seen her before in my life," Nagito shot back indignantly.  Hajime snapped his mouth shut immediately.  

     "Right.  Nevermind.  You're right; she's new.  She'll be taking care of you from now on, okay?"  That seemed to relax the other.  He nodded.

     "She seems kind.  Very talented."

     Hajime dreaded the day he'd ask who  _he_ was.

 

     For better or for worse, that didn't happen before Nagito became positively confused about  _everything._  Far too often, Mikan would call him in the dead of night, crying, begging him to come and help her.  Hajime would find them both in a state of panic.  It was like he was the only one that could make it better.  He'd simply usher Mikan out of the room, sit by the luckster's side and hold him tight until he calmed down.  Aka once he fell asleep.  Hajime, himself, was very tired.

     Nagito forgot him far too soon.  Or maybe it took a long time, Hajime didn't really know; it felt like no time at all.  Mikan explained frantically to him that it was far too early for that to happen, that it was a terrible sign, it was absolutely disastrous, but Hajime barely heard her.  He was too stuck on replaying the exchange he'd just had in his mind.

     "...Who are you?"  He'd cut him off mid-sentence; he'd been saying something about Kyouko Kirigiri.  "Sorry, I..." He scrunched his features up, suddenly looking stressed.  The man reached up and gripped the side of his head.  "Sorry, I don't know who you are.  When did you get here?  Care to...introduce yourself?"

     Hajime felt his heart break right then and there, but he was prepared for it; as prepared as one could be for their best friend - or maybe even something more than that - to forget them entirely.

     "Don't worry about it," he told Nagito as the luckster clenched his teeth, eyes squeezed shut.  "I'm no one important.  I'm leaving now, ok?"  He didn't wait for a response, just hurried out the door.  Mikan was waiting for him in the hall, back to the wall across from the room with her hands clasped under her chin.  She stood up straight when he walked out.

     "H-how i-is he?"  The nurse asked hesitantly.

     Hajime felt sick.

     

     Sometimes he remembered him.  Sometimes he didn't.  That's just how it was.  He couldn't really do anything about it.  Regardless, Hajime put on that same kind smile every visit like he always did; spoke softly and calmly no matter what.  He  _had_ to be strong, for Nagito's sake.

     On his final days, Mikan told him that she wasn't really sure whether he was dying of the lymphoma or dementia.  It was probably both, and it was probably going to be painful.  She'd call him.

     He could barely get out of bed anymore.  Mikan kept him under the covers, mostly; made him drink, helped him eat every so often.  It was basically futile; he couldn't really remember how to do either.  He was lucky he remembered how to breathe.  Or maybe he wasn't; maybe he was better off dead by that point.  It wasn't really a _happy_ existence.

     On the last day that Hajime saw him before he died, Nagito didn't remember him.  The nurse told him he probably wouldn't ever again.  Hajime didn't visit for 4 more days.

     In the end, it was pneumonia that got him.  Something the dementia caused.  "' _Weakened immune system"_ , Mikan was crying into the receiver the night that she called.  " _He's not going to make it.  Please come.  He wants you."_

     Hajme threw on a robe and, otherwise, ran in his boxers and slippers from his cottage to the hospital.  When he arrived, Mikan was hunched over Nagito's wheezing form.  When she noticed the other man, she quickly stepped aside.  Hajime noticed tears streaking down her cheeks.

     The man stood beside Nagito's bed, staring down at him with wide eyes.  The pale boy's eyes were squeezed shut, but he opened them a crack to look at Hajime.  Immediately, he whimpered -- a sound he'd never heard the luckster make.  Then, he promptly burst into tears.  Hajime grabbed his hands in response and held them close, kneeling by the side of the bed.  Nagito responded with a death grip on Hajime's hands; the other man could feel him shaking.  He felt tears stinging behind his own eyes, threatening to spill, but he held them back.  Mikan cowered on the other side of the room, mumbling to herself with her eyes squeezed shut and knees to her chest, gripping her head.

     "It's ok," Hajime cooed.  It felt like he was trying to comfort a child.  "Shh, it's alright.  I'm here, you're ok..."  He repeated those words over and over against the other's noises, desperately hoping it was calming him in some way - like it was making some sort of difference - if even a little - even though he wasn't ok.

     Nagito wheezed and sobbed like that for 5 minutes more that felt like an eternity to everyone in the room.  Could he even remember how to speak?   _I'm sorry, I'm sorry,_ Hajime's mind was screaming; both parts of him.   _I'm so sorry, Nagito, I'm so sorry--_

He died just like that, with Hajime holding his hands and talking to him.  When he went limp, eyes shut, silent and looking paler than ever, Hajime felt the small smile he'd been forcing drop immediately -- like gravity had forcefully pulled his lips down.  He gently placed Nagito's hands over his chest and stood up, staring down at him for a few quiet moments.

     Then, the tears came.  He remained silent, but his shoulders shook nonetheless.

     "H-H-Hajime," Mikan whimpered, finally standing but on trembling knees.  "Ha-ajime, I-I-I'm so s-sorry, I-I'm s-s-so sorry-y!"  She was sobbing openly, tears rolling down her face in a steady stream.  Hajime felt a rush of rage - not for her, but for the situation, their situation - and turned to look at her, his own face now soaked from crying. 

     "Why is this happening?!"  He cried, not expecting her to know the answer.  The nurse visibly flinched.  "Why?!  Why us?!  We had another chance!  We were gonna build our futures together!"  He was sobbing, too, by that point.  "But now-now everyone's  _gone_!  It's just us, now!"

     "I-I'm sorryyyyy!!!" Mikan wailed, crumpling to her knees.  "I-I  _f-f-failed_ , I'm-m so-orry, Ha-Hajime, s-so-o sorry!  I-I-I c-couldn't s-s-save him!  I couldn't s-save a-a-anybodyy!"

      Hajime's couldn't even respond.  He felt like _he_ had forgotten how to speak.

 

**15: "Help Us, Nurse, Help Us!" They Cried.**

      Once Nagito was gone, Mikan became more withdrawn than she ever was before.  Being the only two left on the island gave her and Hajime lots of time to be together, but it often included her just staring into space and Hajime laying his head in his arms.  They didn't have any hope left to give.  They were spent.

      When they did have conversations, it usually involved Mikan continuously apologizing, expressing what a failure she felt she was, saying she didn't deserve to be a nurse -- didn't deserve to _live_.

      "I failed everybody," she told him grimly, eyes blank and unfocused.  "I don't deserve to be forgiven.  What kind of nurse am I, if I can't save anybody?  I wish...wish I could just _disappear_."  He wished he could, too.

      Hajime _also_ wished he had enough willpower to ask her if she was alright, to ask how he could help, to check on her -- like Makoto had once done for him.  He couldn't bring himself to when he, himself, didn't feel alright.  That, however, didn't stop him from feeling guilty when he found her. 

      It was an ironic death for a nurse: a painkiller overdose.  He remembers the day clear; it was only a week before the present.

     He'd been going to visit her at her cottage.  It got lonely on the island with only 2 people; they had to see each other even if it was only to sit in silence.  When he arrived, he hesitated at the door, his hand raised to knock but not sure if he should.  A feeling of dread settled in his gut, and that voice in the back of his head told him that he should turn and leave and never come back.  He knocked anyway.

     No response.  Hajime just stood, staring at the door for a few minutes before knocking again; then a 3rd time; then a 4th.  On the 5th, he decided to just open the door.  A feeling of déjà vu washed over him as he walked inside.   _Empty?_  He glanced around the room.  Mikan was nowhere to be found in the small space.  Turning to the right, his eyes landed on the bathroom door, which was shut.  He walked over to the door and knocked once.

     "Mikan?  'You in there?"  He was met with silence.  He turned the knob slightly.  "Ok, I'm...I'm coming in, ok?"  When he pushed the door, it caught against...something.  Hajime's breath caught in his throat.  He applied a bit more force, opening the door just enough to squeeze through.

     He glanced past the door, halfway inside the room, and slammed back against the wall when he saw what lay on the bathroom floor.

     It was Mikan, sprawled out, her chopped up purple hair splayed out all around her.  An orange container was beside her, pills spilled out all over the tile.  Pushing aside his shock and fear, Hajime went further inside, narrowly avoiding stepping on the nurse, and knelt down to pick up a pill and the container.  

       _Oxycodone,_ Hajime read to himself.   _A painkiller; commonly used for suicides_ , Kamukura told him.  His mouth felt completely dry; he licked his lips.  His hands were shaking as he glanced at the pill in his other hand.  It was fairly small, white on one end and orange on the other.  A capsule.  He glanced back down at Mikan, who was face down on the floor.   _Overdose._   The man was totally numb.  He had nothing left to give. _'Guess it's just me now, then,_ he thought, wanting to cry but finding himself unable to.   _All alone on Jabberwock Island._

 

**16 / Falling Action: Reserved: _Izuru Kamukura_**

     He remembers how he ended up in this situation.  He remembers how they all ended up dead.

     When Hajime returned to the real world, Makoto Naegi and his gun were waiting for him.

     "You don't get it, do you?"  He asks, raising an eyebrow.  "Why I did it?  You think you could honestly get away with everything you've done?  You really think I 'believed' in you?  'Thought I could save you from despair?"  He laughs, loud and humorless.  "It's  _your_ fault my classmates are dead.  It's  _your_ fault that the world ended up how it did.  And for what reason?  Because you felt  _useless_ as a  _Reserve Course Student_?"  He's practically snarling at the other, yet still wearing that big, stupid grin that makes Hajime want to throw up.  "This is  _revenge,_ Kamukura-kun.  That's all it was.  You and all the others, you deserved everything you got."  He points the gun back at him, grins from ear to ear, and walks forward so that they're mere inches apart.  "I can't stand to look at you alive and breathing anymore," he says.  "There's a spot in Hell reserved for you, I'm sure."  He pulls the trigger.

 

**Conclusion**

    Makoto watches, pleased, as Izuru Kamukura crumples to the ground, a satisfying gunshot wound placed right between his eyes.   _He_ put that there, and it felt so _good to do_.  That pink liquid Makoto is oh-so familiar with is pouring down Kamakura's nose and chin, his mouth agape and his eyes afraid and pained.   _Such a relief,_ he thinks.   _Such a magnificent sight._ He could just die right here and be happy!  What an amazingly bad ending.  He always loves when things turn out his way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> my idea for this story was basically just a Bad End of sdr2/dr3 in which all the sdr2 cast dies. horribly. i borrowed my good friend plum (who likes gore more than i do and therefore came in handy) for this fic. also mastermind naegi.  
> i'd also like to point out that plum made fun of me every time i made a typo.


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